The Calm Before the Storm
by ohmytheon
Summary: When Havoc gets a cryptic and terse call from Mustang to meet him at Lieutenant Hawkeye's house, he doesn't know what to expect. And once he's there, well, he doesn't know what to do either. After all, dealing with his superior officer's emotions is more of Hawkeye's job than Havoc's.


**Author's Notes:** Oh, how I love writing Havoc... In case anyone is wondering, this is technically a prequel to **Drabble 93 ("Shackles")** in my 100 Royai Drabbles fic, " _you pull me through time_ " and also my fic " _Wildfire_ ", although neither are necessary to read in order to understand this one. I do think it is a good reflection of the latter though.

 **Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine.

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 **The Calm Before the Storm**

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"Meet me at Hawkeye's apartment in ten. Tell no one."

Those had been the only words his commanding officer had spoken on the phone before hanging up. Havoc had blinked in confusion, considering that his boss had called his own office phone to get a hold of him. With both the Colonel and First Lieutenant out of the office, that left him to answer the phone. He certainly hadn't been excepting a brusque order from his boss, but he did as he was told. With a bland lie about where he was going, he left Breda in charge and then rushed out of the office.

Never mind the fact that Havoc didn't have a vehicle or that he'd only been to Hawkeye's apartment once to help her move some furniture or that it was nearly a twenty minute walk there. Havoc could tell from the Colonel's tone that he would take no excuses for Havoc showing up late, so he did the only thing he could do: Havoc ran through Eastern to her apartment like his life depended on it.

Sure, he probably looked like a strange sight – a soldier in full uniform booking it down the street and narrowly avoiding pedestrians – but he ignored that. At least he was in shape. No more skipping out on cardio for him, even if he did like to joke that as a gunman, he had little running to do.

By the time he reached Hawkeye's apartment, he was huffing and red in the face. He could run five miles, but not at full speed, which was basically what he'd done. There hadn't been time for him to consider slowing down or taking a break, especially not when he'd started to think more and more about Mustang's words and the strange morning. First, he and the others had shown up to an empty office, which never happened even when Hawkeye was out sick that one time, but then the odd call happened.

Maybe she was sick again. That was the only reason Havoc could think that she wasn't already at work. And it would have to be incredibly sick for Mustang to have called him here. But then there was his voice. It had been so cold and flat. Havoc could not recall a time when Mustang sounded like that. The only reason anyone sounded like that was when they were trying to shove every bit of emotion out, so that they wouldn't feel or worry.

A car pulled up to the curb, coming to a skidding halt. Havoc cringed at the parking job, but said nothing as Mustang climbed out. That was probably part of the reason Hawkeye always drove. Standing up straight, Havoc saluted his superior officer. "Sir." At least he managed not to sound as breathy as he felt.

"Follow me." Mustang didn't even look at him as he swept by and entered the apartment building. Havoc furrowed his brow, but decided to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told. What the hell was Mustang's problem? Surely he wasn't pissed because Hawkeye maybe overslept or was sick and didn't pick him up for work. That would be a little petty and he seemed like he was genuinely fond of his adjutant, more than most.

As they climbed the stairs in silence, Havoc began to feel more and more at unease. With a cold aura radiating off of Mustang so furiously, enough to make Havoc walk three steps behind, the hair on Havoc's arms stood up. He felt like his hackles were raised like some sort of wary dog. He couldn't stand the silence either. He wasn't skilled in the silent communication that Mustang and Hawkeye seemed to possess.

"All due respect, sir, what are we doing here?" Havoc finally asked once they reached her floor. The sound of his own voice gave him a small sense of relief – well, until he realized that Mustang wasn't going to answer him. A spark of irritation burst in Havoc. He'd run as fast as he could to Hawkeye's place without even questioning the order. The least he deserved was one small answer. "Couldn't you just have called her if she was running late?"

"I did," Mustang answered coldly. "Five times."

Havoc raised his eyebrows in shock. Hawkeye never ignored a phone call, even when she wasn't feeling well or when she was angry. She was professional to a fault. Even if she missed a call for some reason, she always called back right away. It was completely out of character for her to be a no call no show, especially when she and the Colonel usually rode to work together. Once the shock wore off though, all that was left was that same wariness he'd felt in the stairwell.

Upon stopping at her door, Mustang knocked on the door. "Lieutenant! It's Colonel Mustang." There was no response, just dreaded silence on the other side. He waited little time before knocking again, this time harder. "Hawkeye, are you in there?"

At first, there was nothing. Mustang sighed and went to knock on the door once more when they heard a noise. Scratching on the door, at the bottom, but strangely quiet. Mustang's eyes widened and he took in a gasp of breath, his entire body tensing up, but when he raised one of his gloved hands, fingers already pressed together, Havoc leaped forward to grab his wrist.

"Allow me," Havoc said, pulling out a small kit from his pocket. Mustang ran his fingers through his hair and took a step back, looking like he was just shy of flying off the handle. The man was ready to blast the door to get it open, but that would've hurt only whoever was on the inside and also damage Hawkeye's place, which she would not have been happy about.

Eyeing Mustang edgily, Havoc set to work picking her lock. Hell, watching over Mustang was Hawkeye's job, not his. He'd definitely taken that part of her job for granted. Truth be told though, he was worried too. Perhaps he was just better at hiding it. Mustang was excellent at keeping his cards close to his vest, but he tended to get a little out of sorts whenever Hawkeye was concerned.

Once the lock clicked, Havoc stood up and gripped the handle. Casting one more look towards his boss, who nodded his head, Havoc twisted the knob and pushed the door open. It took a little nudging than he expected when it caught on something and he had to use his shoulder to shove it open. A chair had been lying on the ground at the door, now pushed against the wall. At their feet was a rather woozy-looking Black Hayate, the young pup whining and pawing at Havoc's shoes.

"Hey there, bud, what are you doing out here?" Havoc asked as he bent down to pick up the puppy as Mustang brushed past him inside the apartment. Hayate was still small considering his age, but he felt more like a limp noodle than a puppy, weakly licking Havoc's wrist. "Boss, what–?"

When Havoc looked up, he found a frazzled Mustang storming through the apartment, throwing doors open and calling out for Hawkeye. As he disappeared into another room, Havoc's eyes caught sight of what had thrown the Colonel into such a panic. The entire living room was in disarray, as if someone had trashed the place in a rage. Besides the chair by the door, a lamp was overturned and broken, pictures either hung by a thread or were on the ground, the coffee table smashed like someone had fallen on it, papers and books strewn everywhere, and even the couch had a tear from what looked like a knife.

And then there was the blood, spattered on the east wall like red paint.

Subconsciously, Havoc held Hayate tightly against his chest. Now he knew why Hayate was acting in such a strange way. He'd most likely been drugged by the people that had kidnapped Hawkeye. The puppy whimpered in his arms. Mustang swept back into the living room, running both his hands through his hair now and gripping it to the point where it looked like he might tear some of it out. His eyes locked onto the blood and he went incredibly still, maybe not even breathing.

Setting Hayate down on the couch, Havoc went to stand right behind Mustang. He held out a hand to put on his shoulder and then stopped. What could he do? What could he say? Was there honestly anything he could say that would make this better? The fact was that Riza Hawkeye had been taken, but Havoc was not about to delude himself. She had been taken from Mustang. They both knew that this was a direct attack against the newly promoted Colonel, even if there wasn't a ransom note left in her stead.

"Sir, we need to call the MPs," Havoc settled on saying, allowing his hand to drop to his side. It was cold and didn't speak a lick of how he actually felt, but he tried to think of what Hawkeye would say. She'd be rational, collected, and professional. She'd want to get the job done. Everything else could come afterwards. Hell, how did she work like that? He wanted to scream. God only knew how Mustang felt. "They'll need to process the scene so that we can get some evidence as fast as possible."

"They took her," Mustang said in a hollow voice. Catching sight of the other man's face, Havoc saw a look pure bleakness on Mustang. He'd never seen Mustang look like that before and it scared the piss out of him. He looked like a man that had lost his sight and didn't know where to go.

"We'll get her back," Havoc reassured him, the words feeling as weak as he felt. What else could he say? They _would_ get her back. Even if it meant not sleeping until she was found, they would find her. Havoc would make sure of it himself. They were more than a team; they were family. And as much of a hard ass as she could be, Hawkeye had grown to be one of his closest friends and confidants over the years.

Mustang's hands dropped to his side to dangle. For all the power that his ignition gloves gave him, he was absolutely useless now and on such a bright and sunny day too. "All this blood… Someone was shot. We don't even know if she's injured or alive."

"She's the Hawk's Eye, remember?" Havoc said, putting a hand on Mustang's shoulder. "Likely she was able to hit one of her captors."

Without warning, Mustang shrugged Havoc's hand off of him and violently reared on him, a look of pure murder on his face. There was so much fire in Mustang's eyes that Havoc actually took a step back without thinking. He knew that Mustang wasn't angry with him, but it still managed to take him off guard. For a man that was too handsome, he suddenly managed to wear a very ugly look. His fists clenched at his side and his lips turned into a twisted frown, Roy Mustang looked more like a monster than a man and Havoc came to the abrupt realization just what and who his commanding officer would be in a world without Riza Hawkeye.

If Havoc was going to ensure that Mustang didn't burn everything to the ground because he was lost in his despair and rage, he was going to have to do a lot of work. He wasn't Hawkeye though. He wasn't even Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes. He could only do so much. And so, despite the fact that everything in him was warning him to run and hide, Havoc straightened up and stood his ground, his expression turning hard.

"You need to get a hold of yourself," Havoc told him harshly. Well, he certainly wasn't going to win any awards for most comforting speech. "We don't know a damn thing about the situation. We're running completely blind here. If you want a chance at finding Hawkeye and saving her, you need to take a good hard look at yourself and calm down. Otherwise you're just going to make a mess of things and I doubt she'd appreciate anyone getting hurt on her behalf."

It wasn't much, but it was just enough to make Mustang falter. The fury slowly dissipated from him until there was nothing left but despair. His entire body sagged and he collapsed onto the damaged couch, as if only his rage had been holding him up and keeping him on his feet. Havoc turned away for a second to close his eyes and release a breath. He'd been half sure that Mustang was going to light him up on the spot.

"Oh, god, she's gone. She's gone and I can't…" Mustang doubled over and hid his face in his hands. Hayate crawled over to him and pawed at his arm until Mustang moved so that the puppy could wiggle onto his lap. Digging his hands into Hayate's fur and peering at the small animal, Mustang took a shaky breath. "You're shit at comforting people, Havoc."

"Kind of hard to do that when I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack myself," Havoc admitted. Smoothing Hayate's fur and allowing the dog to nuzzle into him, Mustang gave Havoc a pained look. "But we're going to find her, I swear. We'll get her back."

Even as Mustang nodded his head, a dark look flickered across his face for a brief second. Havoc bit his tongue on that and turned to find a phone so that they could call in back up. He knew what that look meant. They would find Hawkeye – and then they would find the men responsible. Burning in hell would be a lesser punishment for them probably.


End file.
